Perfect
by 1SimpleSunday
Summary: Alison DiLaurentis is not "Perfect" like everyone says. If anything, she's "Imperfect". But with Emily, everything from mood to feelings change. Alison can't help but crack a smile. Or...keep her hands to herself. PLEASE LIKE AND REVIEW? :D
1. Perfect First Kiss

**Perfect First Kiss**

You know that feeling, when you wake up in the middle of the night with three hours to kill? Or your favorite show airs that very same night? Maybe even your crush glances at you an extra second too long, then smiles? Leaving your heart including your head on a whirlwind of mixed motions?

Well, you're not alone. Emily Fields can relate.

It seemed like it was just yesterday when Alison DiLaurentis, the most beautiful, not to mention "it girl" at Rosewood Day, contacted Emily outside of a downtown bar. Drunken out of her mind. Radiating three, possibly four bud lights tops.

Of course, she wasn't drinking in the bar, due to legal issues. You know, too young, blah,blah,blah. But the fact that she even took a sip, well, more than a sip, completely baffled Emily. Alison was perfect. The most popular girl in all of Rosewood. Why would she need an excuse to consume such drugs? Alison had no right to.

Which brings me to my next point. After Alison hollered out Emily's name in a slow, high pitched manor, Emily couldn't resist to define the source. Completely shocked to see Alison DiLaurentis stumble her way over. The pungent scent practically strangling Emily's lungs with every word she uttered. Though, nothing really made sense.

For starters, how did Alison know Emily's name? Emily wasn't popular like Alison, or very well known. In fact, the only thing that stood out about Emily, was being captain of the swim team. And if Emily really wanted to gather Alison's attention, she would have to drop the skinny jeans and crew necks to be acknowledged. The standards were that high.

But intoxicated or not, having Alison assess Emily were a miracle itself. Like, who knew the girl Emily never considered confronting could be so graceful yet sloppy when smashed? I mean, Alison surprisingly carried herself pretty well. Speaking clearly and breathing on a steady beat.

Also, Alison noticed Emily shift uncomfortably, so she stepped back. Still engulfed socially and processing everything Emily said. Nodding right on cue. Keeping constant eye contact.

After a while, Emily expected numerous people to pop out and confirm this were a sick joke. But no one did. Not one single person. And speaking of people, Emily could have swore that Alison always ran with a posse. Alison DiLaurentis was not one to run solo.

So just as Emily were about to call it a night and say a clever farewell, Alison immediately shushed her. Rambling a sentence of incoherent words that most likely meant "shut up, it's my turn to talk".

As controlling and stereotypical as it was, Emily obeyed Alison's orders, growing silent. Besides, Emily was exhausted from jogging five miles. All she wanted to do was simply go home and ease the pain with ice packs. In hopes that Coach Turner would cancel after school practice for some abnormal reason.

Though what happened next, no one saw coming. Especially Emily. Matter fact, Emily were stunned. Incapable of building a response. But honestly, how do you reply? Girls don't kiss girls out of nowhere. Alison DiLaurentis included.


	2. Perfect Timing

**Perfect Timing**

"Okay, lets run it!" Coach Turner rallied all the swimmers to lunge in the water. Which meant Emily had to find a partner. Quick. If failed to do so, sentenced you to ten laps. That's if, he's in a good mood.

Looking left and right and left again, Emily found herself standing alone at the edge of the diving boards. Desperately in need of a swimming buddy to assist one another for the upcoming meet. Stupid? Yes. Helpful? Eh, somewhat. It really depended on the person and their knowledge for tips plus tricks.

Just at the right moment, Paige McCullers, an experienced swimmer since the age of six, tapped Emily's shoulder. Pleading for Emily to agree to practice with her, to which Emily replied, "thank god!".

Once at the diving board all the way in the far corner, Emily insisted that Paige kick off. Saying since Paige was very, very talented. But it was mostly because Emily feared that if first, Paige would laugh or comment rude remarks. So Emily tried to play it cool by analyzing what Paige had in store. Planning to break down every aspect of Paige's techniques. I mean ,that's what Coach Turner instructed to do anyway, so maybe this wasn't all too stupid, Emily thought.

"Okay, you got fifteen minutes ladies, get to work!" Coach Turner stomped back to his office to probably flirt with his long distance girlfriend via web chat.

When positively clear of no male presence, chlorine damaged heads popped out of the water and perfectly waxed legs dangled off the edge of the pool. Coach Turner worked everybody so hard that it was nice to catch a breath now and then. Even if it meant chatting it up with Paige McCullers. Supposedly a "bitch", but undetermined for the time being.

What started with awkward, first acquaintance small talk, eventually evolved to non stop giggling. Paige told hilarious stories about her childhood, and Emily chucked out quite a few herself. It was like reliving old memories that you favored dearly, but with a good friend. Trusting them with secrecy to not repeat a word that is spoken. The tall tales of the past being too embarrassing. But with Paige, Emily sensed that she was too sweet to distrust. In no way was a Paige a "bitch". Emily could easily confirm this, without a doubt.

"Gooo, sharks!" Brooklyn Taylor's voice suddenly bounced off the abundant amount of Rosewood Spirit infested walls. The magic words one must say when Coach Turner planned a comeback.

Skipping, dashing, and even swimming, everyone attempted to escape their circle of friends. Forced to identify which diving board they originally occupied. Some, claiming a new spot that obtained nobody.

"Alright everyone, I've seen enough for today! Hit the showers!" Coach Turner rubbed both eyes vigorously, retreating back to his office. Obviously unpleased by the progress of today's practice.

Perching like a whale out of water, Emily attempted to hop out, but couldn't. A strong force pushed Emily below the surface. Disabling a task that is so simple, yet impossible when surrounded by such strength.

Gurgles, bubbles, and gasps filled the now empty indoor pool. Screaming for help, but receiving absolutely none. All the girls were probably undressing and re-dressing at the moment, so it was safe to say Emily were screwed. But out of nowhere, Emily felt the weight back down. Giving Emily the chance to inhale much needed oxygen. Throwing her limp body out of the pool, coughing up partial water.

Squinting long and hard, Emily lay on the floor, barely able to identify shapes or figures. Though one stood right before Emily. Crouching to their knees, inspecting every inch.

Feeling extremely dizzy and lightheaded, Emily soon fell unconscious. Catching a mere glimpse at the stranger's facial features just before slipping out of touch. And it was a good thing Emily caught it at such perfect timing because the figure,well, the girl, vanished in a matter of seconds.

Emily may have not realized it at the time, but that girl wasn't just any stranger. She was a hero. Emily's hero.


	3. The Perfect Solution

**The Perfect Solution**

That very same day, Emily awoke to a bright pink bedroom, poster engulfed walls, and a desk that housed a MacBook Pro. For a second, Emily had no clue of the location. But then reality sunk in. Emily was in Carolyn, her older sisters bedroom. Which would explain the overload of pink furniture and Justin Timberlake memorabilia. Totally creepy, and not Emily's style. Though Emily did enjoy his music ever since the age of twelve, she never found Justin attractive in an "oh my god, marry me" type way. Unlike any of the other girls in Emily's grade at the time, who gushed endlessly about him. But he was, and still is, very handsome, no doubt. Emily just can't muster enough strength to admit that type of information aloud because it feels odd.

Curiously, Emily patted the cold space of Carolyn's queen size. Nothing. Then Emily listened for voices or figures. Still, nothing. Lastly, Emily stretched plus yawned ever so lazy. If Emily didn't know any better, it's like she slept for a good couple hours. Like three, possibly four. Unsure of how Emily wound up in Carolyn's bed was a mystery for sure, but the brunette really didn't mind. Carolyn's bed was always more comfortable and soft compared to Emily's. So whenever Emily got the chance, she envied the moment without question. Soaking up the heavenly mattress that sunk deep into her body, much like laying on a meadow of pure cotton.

A soft hum escaped Emily's lips, it was so peaceful and serene. Emily also heard a small cricket, probably near Carolyn's window seal, chirping melodically. And the fairly large room was dead silent. Easing every muscle in Emily's body that vigorously ached from swim practice.

Speaking of swim practice, Emily shot both eyes open at the very thought. What happened at practice was terrifying. Emily couldn't bear to even think of who the victim might be, because Paige was the last one alongside Emily. The remainder of the swimmers literally "hit the showers". Leaving Emily with little to no chance of surviving the wrath of the psychotic Paige McCullers. A prime suspect that almost cost a life.

Though one thing didn't add up. Like, just before Emily blacked out, she spotted a figure staring downwards. Perhaps worriedly, but that's nearly impossible. Paige was fully aware of her actions, no regrets were felt. But still, the figure acted differently. Almost like they were checking on Emily to see if she were fine. Breathing on a steady beat. And, that's not all. Emily could have swore she caught a glimpse of blonde hair. A trait that Paige doesn't even measure up to. Which confused Emily to the point where nothing made sense anymore. The only person Emily could really, really consider, was Alison DiLaurentis. You know, the drunken kisser who planted one just three days ago. Who, still, has yet to explain herself.

But if that's the case, why would Alison commit something so gruesome? After the kiss or whatever, Emily sensed something more than just a drunk night. No, it felt life-like. On purpose. Real. I mean, what girl, technically stranger, kisses another girl? Especially if they're not even friends, and barely acquaintances on a few accidental run ins?

Thinking back, Emily really didn't get to witness Alison's reaction, she was sprinting so fast. For all Emily knows, Alison could have felt something deeper. Hence, why Alison took the plunge.

But at this very moment, Emily needed answers. Afraid that if not given, Emily's brain would explode with anticipation.

So Emily hopped up, off, and over to Carolyn's MacBook. Scanning the room for any lingering eyes. Mostly Carolyn's. When alone, Emily powered it up and launched FireFox. Such a lame program, but way better than Internet Explorer. Typing just a measly two letters, the automatic search bar filled out the rest of the url. Assuming that's what Emily wanted. And she did.

Facebook, perfect.

So Emily signed in, hesitated for a moment, exhaled, swiped the keys, hesitated, and sighed. This wasn't much of a big deal, but Emily felt like it was huge. Because, Emily figured that if she really wanted legit answers, Facebook is the only option. I mean, it's not like Emily's going to confront Alison herself, hell to the no. Word on the street is Alison is a cold, stuck up, judgmental bitch. Not too easy to talk to. Especially since Emily would never be able to capture Alison alone. Alison always, I repeat, always has boys and girls flocking around her like flies to shit. It's just impossible. Now, if Emily friended her on Facebook, there's a fifty percent chance that Alison might accept. That's if, Alison remembers Emily. Or, "that night". Matter fact, if Alison approves, to be honest. Emily really isn't Alison's first pick out of a crowd, if you get what I mean.

Stalling, Emily mentally reminded herself, stop stalling you're on a mission. Well, it's not a James Bond kind of mission, but it's close enough. Emily certainly felt like a detective, sleuthing for clues, stalking Alison's Facebook profile like this. Which, Emily didn't even notice she clicked. Wow, it most have been a couple minutes or so between ranting amongst herself and stalling that Emily's fingers decided to take action. Searching Alison DiLaurentis, automatically choosing the right one. Because, not surprisingly, there were fake profiles that had different pictures of Alison, but the same exact name.

Alright, lets do this,Emily confidently nodded. Forcing clammy, nervous fingers to scroll down the page.

"Lms for rates. Only doing some. 3"

Pfft, how typical, Emily rolled both eyes and continued.

"G.N.O with my besties! Love you ladies xoxo - with Riley Howard, Caitlin Shortt, and Haley Burton."

Haley Burton? Emily pondered. That name sounds super familiar. It rings a bell, but for some reason Emily can't piece the puzzle. Haley Burton from school? Obviously. Haley Burton from Spanish class? No wait, that's Haley Harper. A girl that is so damn weird and ,ugh, disgusting in general. Though, there is one person by the name of Haley in swimming, but Alison doesn't hang with people who play sports. Or at least, Emily figured. Nah, Emily shook the thought after a while of thinking, it can't be. Emily's positive Alison wouldn't want to be seen with a sports junkie, day or night. But, it wouldn't hurt to check. Saying since Emily was elected swim captain a mere month ago, the brunette had all sorts of connections now. Like, records, keys to the office, and not to mention roll call. The perfect solution.

CLICK CLICK

Two taps of the mouse echoed the enormously vacant bedroom, and Emily wouldn't dare look any longer.

The damage was done. The Friend Request(s) were sent.


	4. The Perfect Thief

**The Perfect Thief**

Nervous was an understatement, Emily glanced at the mirror one last time. Emily was anxious. Why? Because, today was the day Emily discovered if Haley Burton was indeed Alison's best friend, better yet, a member of the swim team. If so, Emily may get answers that reveal another side to the story. Possibly even a new outlook. Like, Alison could be what everyone murmurs endlessly about in the halls, but the complete opposite. Or Emily could be over thinking this whole issue, and maybe Alison was just really drunk. Wasted from head to toe, unsure of her surroundings. But wether it be option one or two, Emily would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the kiss. I mean, Alison was stunningly gorgeous. Plus a great kisser. It was an honor to connect in a such a way. Normally, people would kill to even be winked at.

Now don't get me wrong, Emily Fields is not, nor ever, a lesbian. But, for Alison DiLaurentis, exceptions could be situated. That's if, Alison even felt a spark. Because, unfortunately, Alison is straight as a board. She's dated many guys, douche bags I might add, from the age of just thirteen years old. Yeah, that young. I'm telling you, Alison has the looks, brains, and a bright aurora that sucks you in. Almost like a love potion that takes one whiff to activate.

And don't even get me started on Alison's hair. With luscious honey blonde locks like that and a perfectly crafted heart shaped face, even celebrities may instantly feel insecure. Every other girl in Rosewood Day already does. Even schools like Ravenswood, a whole 'nother district, constantly buzz about Alison on a daily basis.

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

Emily whipped out a white iPhone 5 to pause repetitive, annoying rings .

_Oh crap_. Five more minutes and Emily would be considered late. All for thinking about Alison DiLaurentis. How pathetic, Emily's cheeks filled a light pink.

Rushing,no, sprinting, Emily urgently stomped down the stair case. Grasping the only car key on the rack, revealing automatic doors to a dark blue vehicle.

Oh no, Emily groaned, the minivan. The only source of transportation since Mrs. Fields snatched Emily's eighteenth birthday present, a silver Prius.

With no choice, and no say, Emily quickly hit the pedal to the metal. Arriving at the school in a matter of two minutes to spare. Not too bad, considering the minivan has sucky horsepower.

Gathering English books, a large Starbucks thermal, and a solid blue Jansport backpack, Emily scampered to the entrance of the school. Barely in control of the books, let alone a sense of direction. But the only thing that really mattered at this point was getting to first period in one piece.

Unfortunately, Emily's books immediately splattered to the floor of the glossy hallway all in one drop. _How convenient_, Emily hunched over. Just then, a pair of perfectly manicured toes stepped in Emily's view. And judging by the bedazzled pink wedges, and sugar induced Victoria's Secret perfume, Emily was mortified to look up. It can't be her, Emily mentally chanted, please don't be her!

The mystery girl then kneeled to both knees, flattened out a floral pink sun dress, and collected one of the books. Not even saying a word. Just silently assisting Emily in a polite manner. Springing back up just as Emily did.

Once face to face, Emily couldn't believer the sight. It was Haley Burton from Facebook; Alison's best friend. Aside from Haley's online profile, she radiated pure beauty. Oval green eyes, tinted caramel skin, and flowing shoulder- length curly blonde hair. Partially odd combinations, but somehow managed to fit. A close second compared to Alison.

"Uh, _thanks_." Emily croaked out, eyeing anything but Haley.

Nice save, idiot.

"Yup." Was all Haley said, and proceeded to what Emily assumed was class. But anyways, what was up with the attire? Haley dresses just like Alison. And even the damn curls were on point! They're best friends, I guess that could be the reason, but still. The resemblance was uncanny. Emily could have swore Haley was Alison in a heartbeat.

Swinging a sharp left, carefully dodging the valuable Rosewood Day trophy cabinet, Emily fled down the pine sol filtered hallway like lightning. Now lets be honest, running sucks. It's disgustingly stupid, in fact. The only time Emily ran was for important situations, like being extremely late for class. Which, probably already began. But it wouldn't hurt to try.

"Present!" Emily felt ridiculous shouting like a mad women. But it definitely got the teachers attention. Mr. Fitz raised, scribbled on his clipboard, and directed Emily to take a seat. Warning the brunette that _he'll let it slide this time_. After many thank you's, Emily scanned the room, biting her lip as she did so. How is it impossible that no seats are open? The class is never this filled. Ever.

Though, as class officially started, Emily luckily spotted a seat in the middle. Right next to a group of chess playing dorks, punks dipped in black, and the biggest nerd to ever live, Spencer Hastings. then ordered everyone to whip out one of the English books that Emily carried to school. Adding that _studying for next weeks test is today's goal_.

Desperately, Emily chucked precious schoolwork, checked twice, and flipped the blue Jansport inside out. But the book wasn't to be found. Matter fact, it was nowhere in Emily's radius.

Suddenly, Emily sensed a light buzz. It vibrated Emily's front pocket of her jean capri cut-offs just once. Alerting the brunette that a fresh notification now lingered on the five inch screen. When actually, it was two. A text from Mrs. Fields verifying that Emily got to school on time and a notification from Facebook.

The bubble read: _Alison DiLaurentis accepted your Friend Request_.


End file.
